Broken Mirrors
by Mixed Metaphors
Summary: Shortly after Voldemort's fall, an old friend of Snape's is caught by aurors and put on trial. Snape is called to testify against her. But there's more to this assassin's tale than meets the eye.
1. Prologue

A/N: This story has been in the works for a _very_ long time. It needed much deliberation, because it's being written in a mildly artistic way (mildly) and I would probably destroy something if it turned into a Mary Sue (shudders). Anyway, this is only the prologue and it's maddeningly uninformative, but that's my way of hooking readers.

Enjoy!

Diclaimer: I do not own Severus Snape or the concept of Voldemort or the Dark Mark. Be nice and don't sue.

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**Broken Mirrors**

Prologue

_Love is not a victory march,_

_It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah._

_-'Hallelujah', Rufus Waintright_

The sun had nearly set, and its dying rays cast an ethereal glow upon the glade. Its light made the leaves and blossoms on the trees seem to shine almost like jewels. The surrounding woods were quiet, the serene silence punctuated with only the occasional chitter of a squirrel or the _swish_ of wind passing through branches.

In the centre of it all was a statue.

The stone figure was female shaped and was exquisitely carved from marble. She was obviously a faerie, judging by the pointed ears and sharp facial features. Not to mention the graceful pair of wings sprouting from her shoulders.

She was kneeling, though her posture was straight-backed and proud. Her head was held high and her eyes, though stone, still seemed bright and alert. Whatever artist had carved her must have known her very well. They had captured her expression perfectly. Her eyes held their unfathomable cunning and wisdom, yet her mouth was shaped in an amused and sardonic grin. The slight upward tilt of her head perfectly captured her pride and silent strength.

Severus Snape's fingers traced the letters carved at the statue's base. _Phoenyx_. There was no last name, no dates, but it was obvious what the statue's purpose was. It was a memorial.

Snape looked up into the stone faerie's face. Her eyes seemed to knowingly stare back at him.

"Well," he said hesitantly, at last, "I'm here."

The statue said nothing. That was alright. He didn't particularly expect it to.

Snape seemed uncomfortable. Phoenyx was as difficult to talk to dead, as she had been in life. Somehow, nothing felt like the right thing to say in her presence.

"I suppose," Snape said slowly, "I should have come here earlier…Though, knowing you, you most likely don't care. You never quite returned my affection, did you?" He paused, trying to plan his next words. "I could lie to you. I could tell you that I've missed you everyday and that I was too busy to pay my respects." He smiled mirthlessly. "But you'd see through that, you always could."

"Normally, I try not to think about you. I'm sure you know the reasons for that. I don't enjoy dwelling on the past. For the past decade and a half, I've completely avoided all thoughts of you…but…Once again, it seems that history is repeating itself." Snape grimaced, "I can't help dredging up old memories."

He hesitated, searching for words. As he did so, he studied the memorial again. It must have been his imagination, but he could have sworn that her eyes looked…expectant.

"There are times," Snape spoke carefully, unused to telling anyone-let alone a statue-what his thought were, "There are times when I wish that…you were still here. Or, that I could have been there…at the end."

"For a long time, I blamed you for everything. If you were here you would probably call me a 'foolish irresponsible human' but it seemed like all my problems were somehow related to you."

"Now, though, I know that I would have joined the Dark Lord with or without you. So, I'm not here to forgive you. Nor am I here to say that I was wrong and I'm sorry." Snape's voice took on a derisive edge at these last few words. "I'm here to tell you that I finally…fully understand you."

His hand went subconsciously to his left arm. He rubbed it a little and glanced to the statue's. To his surprise, the artist had thought to add a faint Dark Mark to it. To counter it, on her other arm was a tattoo depicting a flying raven carrying a sword in its claws. The mark of the _V'iirythir's_.

Snape glanced at both the marks and then looked back into her proud, knowing face.

"Goodbye, Nyx. I wish you all the best."

With that, he rose, and left the tranquil glade, and the past, behind him.

He did, however, look back once. And all the memories flooded back.

_It's not a cry you can hear at night_

_It's not somebody that's seen the light_

_It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah._

_-'Hallelujah'_

A/N: This WILL be continued-and very soon I hope. This whole story is going to be one big flashback, and don't worry, you will find out what a 'V'iirythir' is and, of course, who exactly Phoenyx is. That's the whole point of this fic! Please enjoy! And don't forget, all reviews are appreciated.


	2. My Comrade, My Enemy

A/N: Allo allo :D! I have returned with this chapter! Fairly quickly too…for me. I would like to thank my TWO reviewers.

Stocktonwood: Hey there! You are now the Most Esteemed First Reviewer of this fic, this makes you special and you get to lord it over everyone else. Plus you get a cookie! (Hands you a cookie). I'm pleased that you like my style and I sincerely hope you continue to enjoy my story.

JenDraca: That's some nice spelling, Jen, you're special. Oh well, that's what you get with SCHS education. Our english teachers are crap. You also get a cookie, sadly though, it's the cookie for retards…I mean "special" people. (Hands you the retard/"special" cookie).

Diclaimer: I've done this once I don't particularly feel like doing it again. If you think I own HP or Severus Snape then you deserve the retard cookie.

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**Chapter 1**

My Comrade, My Enemy

The Snape manor was nearly deserted. Its rooms and halls were filled with crates and trunks. The furniture was draped with white sheets. The walls were bare, the bookcases empty.

Severus, last of his family, stalked through the corridors. He regarded his family's most treasured heirlooms impassively. They meant nothing at all to him. This would probably be one of the last times he saw them but he didn't care. Soon, he would be leaving this desolate place forever. He was to live at Hogwarts from now on. He couldn't leave soon enough for his taste. The house was an unpleasant reminder of his childhood.

The soon-to-be potions professor sat down heavily on a covered chair in his father's former study. The old bastard was dead now, along with the rest of the Snape House, whether on the run from the Ministry's aurors, or from suicide. Some had even killed by their fellow Death Eaters, their murderers hoping to gain favour or forgiveness for these actions. Only Severus, due to his secret loyalties, had escaped his family's ill fate unscathed.

Yes, Voldemort had fallen. And the noise of the fireworks had not yet faded when the Ministry of Magic commenced hunting down his remaining followers. The surprised Death Eaters reacted in many ways; some immediately confessed, hoping for leniency, many claimed to have been placed under the Imperius curse, or gave the Ministry as many names as they could to gain their own freedom. A great number ran. Others, who were still unshakably loyal to their leader, fought. A few were freed, all the rest were placed in Azkaban or had been killed while fighting of aurors (not always an accident on the auror's part).

Very few knew about Severus' connection to Voldemort; only Dumbledore-the new Headmaster of Hogwarts-and a select few Ministry officials. To divert the suspicions of those Death Eaters who had wriggled their way out of punishment-such as the Malfoys-Severus had to pretend that he had rescued himself through the same means. As far as his old comrades knew, he had claimed to have been controlled through the Imperius curse. It was plausible enough and the small number of people who actually knew of his doings had already returned to ignoring him.

Leaning back in the chair, his eyes closed in thought, Severus was caught completely off guard when he heard a thunderous explosion near the front entrance.

Pausing only to snatch up his wand, Severus bolted downstairs and through the labyrinthine halls. A few more, smaller, explosions sounded as he ran, followed by some pounding and last of all a loud crash. A moment later, he reached the entryway, wand raised. A strange sight met his eyes. Huddled in the open doorway was a cloaked female figure, injured and breathing heavily. Her robes were smoking slightly and a pool of a blood was forming roughly around her leg. Her head was uncovered, but bowed, and her dark hair hid her face from view. The most surreal part of the scene was the fact that it seemed as though a dim outline of wings was flickering in and out above her back. Outside the door, Severus could see scorch marks dotting his porch. He noted dimly that it was raining.

Sensing his presence, the intruder glanced up at him. Seeing her face-the tanned skin, the bright green/yellow eyes, the dark brown hair-Severus immediately knew who she was. He did not lower his wand.

"Hello there, Sev," the woman greeted cheerfully. "Did you know that your door is guarded with fire charms?"

"Get out, Phoenyx."

Phoenyx was unfazed. "That's not a nice thing to say to your oldest schoolfriend," she quipped.

With a degree of difficulty, she pulled herself to her feet using the door jamb. As soon as she was standing relatively stably (her left leg was badly ripped up), she allowed the glamour placed on her wings to fade. In a moment they were completely visible. Apparently they'd been hit as well. Russet stains of dried blood clung to their black feathers. Though, knowing Phoenyx, there was a chance it wasn't her own.

"Nyx, leave," ordered Severus. "There's nothing for you here." He kept his wand on level with her heart.

"Oh yes, there is," she answered swiftly, "I need a healing potion." She gestured to her leg. "And I know you have lots of those. You always do, along with all those poisons of yours." She rolled her eyes impatiently, "and lower that bloody stick, would you? It's just irritating. You would never hex me and you know it."

Reluctantly, Severus pocketed his wand. His reasoning was that, in her position, Phoenyx knew that killing her only _remotely_ possible ally within a thousand leagues would be a very unwise decision. Secretly, however, deep in his mind, he knew that she did have a point.

"Why are you here?"

"I told you, idiot human! To get a healing potion. Or would you rather I just bleed on your floor?"

Severus would have liked to reply with some sort of biting retort, but Phoenyx drowned out his voice by slamming the front door just as he opened his mouth. She hobbled past him, favouring her left foot heavily. Severus watched her limp down the hall in mild disbelief. Phoenyx seemed to notice that he hadn't moved. She turned around and gave him a look of mingled expectance and impatience.

"Well…?"

"You don't honestly expect me to help you, do you?"

Phoenyx snorted. "Of course not. But I'm going to take what I need regardless. This just might take longer."

With that, she returned to her struggle down the corridor.

Cursing himself for his inability to deal with the irritating pixie (for that was what she was), Severus hurried to catch up to her. The second he was beside her, Phoenyx wrapped an arm around his shoulders to steady herself. She was shorter than him and the action forced him to stoop.

In an attempt to gain some form of control over the situation, Severus dragged Phoenyx bodily into a nearby sitting room and dropped her on the closest chair. He knelt beside her, his black eyes glaring into her own.

"What do you want?" he growled.

Phoenyx opened her mouth, a sarcastic reply on her lips. Severus cut her off.

"Say healing potion again and you will be seperated from your limbs."

The pixie smirked. "Well, Sev, currently not-being-hunted-down-like-a-dog-by-aurors is the highest on my list of priorities." She paused and subconsciously shifted her leg. The pain this caused made her grimace. "However," she added, her voice slightly strained, "I'm also in favour of _not_ bleeding to death. So, if you would be so kind…"

Phoenyx mimed drinking something and flashed Severus a pointed look, her eyebrows raised expectantly.

Severus didn't answer her. Instead, he examined the slashes across her calf. He was no healer but he could tell they were quite deep. Phoenyx must have suffered substantial bloodloss because of them.

He gestured to the wounds. "How did this happen?"

Nyx shrugged. "I was running. We were in a forest. I was going to try to lose my pursuers by crossing a ravine," she made flapping motions with her hands, "when some wizard managed to hit me with a stunning spell. I fell down the slope, still conscious, but unable to move. I think I must have hit a rock or something…possibly several rocks. It was a very deep, very gravelly ravine," she added, wincing at the memory.

"They didn't catch up to you?" Severus asked skeptically. It was obvious that she had escaped, or she wouldn't be in his house, but must have had to fight them to get away. This would be difficult when stunned.

"By the time I'd reached the bottom, the spell had worn off. Shock and adrenaline helped me keep running. Whenever they came too close for comfort I'd throw an elemental spell at them. Of course, I couldn't do that very often as my strength was running out."

Being of Faerie origins, Phoenyx could, on occasion, command and use the elements to her advantage. However the effort of controlling them was heavily draining and it was unwise to use more than three elemental spells in a month.

"How many spells?"

"About…" Phoenyx closed her eyes and tried to calculate the number, "twelve."

Severus' eyebrows shot up. "And you're still alive?"

"As I said: Shock and adrenaline." The pixie swayed slightly and for a moment her eyes seemed to have trouble focusing. "Which, I believe is now starting to wear off." She said once she'd steadied herself.

A thought occurred to Severus, "why didn't you just fly?"

Phoenyx rolled her eyes. "Oh, now, there's a bright idea. And while I do that I might as well paint a bull's-eye on my back and send up fireworks. There's no easier target than something in the sky, Sev! There's no cover, nowhere to hide, and if you try to land you're incredibly vulnerable. Not to mention, if you get hit with _anything_ you could crash and die a bloody broken death. Flying is good for speed and quick evasion perhaps but for long drawn out chases, it isn't very helpful."

"Tell me, did you kill any of the aurors?" Severus asked, relatively sure of the answer.

"Without a shadow of a doubt," Phoenyx answered, her face, for once, serious.

For a long moment an oppressive silence reigned between them. Becoming impatient, Phoenyx broke off their staring contest.

"Well? Are you going to help me or not?"

Severus considered this. He was not entirely sure what to answer. He knew what Nyx was capable of and where her loyalies lay. He knew that underneath the sleeves of her robes lurked the Dark Mark. They'd been friends for more than a decade and he knew by now-or thought he did-how her mind worked. She was ruthless and manipulative to the core, though she reserved a soft spot for him. Still, if she could use him as an avenue of escape, she would. It would be in his best interests if he turned her out. If the Ministry learned that he had aided one such as her…the consequences would be very grave indeed.

However, Severus could not deny that Phoenyx had been a good friend to him. She'd defended him from the start and, despite the unpopularity it caused her among the rest of the student body, she had remained by his side. Even when she entered Tom Riddle's inner circle, she had always made time to spend with him.

She was a spy on her own people, an assassin and a Death Eater but she was still his friend.

"I'll help you with your wounds," Severus said at last, "but then you are on your own."

Phoenyx nodded once, accepting this small mercy. Then, at last succumbing to bloodloss and exhaustion, her eyelids drooped, her body slumped and she slowly, inexorably, fell sideways off the chair. Severus caught her just before she hit the marble floor.

???????????????

A/N: And there you go…Now I just want to clarify a few things in case someone wants to flame me.

I realize that the fact that my OC is a pixie may make some people want to call her a Mary Sue. I assure you that she is not.

 For one thing, she is not beautiful.

She's kind of pretty, in a bizarre way, but she certainly isn't a blond blue-eyed bombshell. More of a…yellow-eyed brunette.

Nobody falls in love with her (at least not in _this_ or any of my stories)…I suppose, that at some point of her life-not documented by me-someone fell in love with her…

She isn't perfect, in fact, she screws up A LOT. And she's prone to violence and bagpipe-playing.

She doesn't have a ::gasp!:: angst-ridden past; her childhood was quite happy.

She's also quasi-evil. Hello? Death Eater? (I'm not sure if Mary Sues are never evil but they do seem to always be nauseatingly good most of the time).

I made Phoenyx a pixie not because I wanted a perfect-in-every-way girlfriend for Snape. I made her that way because J.K. Rowling's books are filled with magic and pixies are (obviously) magical creatures. I wanted her to be out-of-the-ordinary and a weird friend of Snape. She has wings, yes, and can use elemental spells occasionally, but otherwise she has no specific powers. She's just a run of the mill faerie. Anyway, I've argued my case and if you still want to criticize my work, you may do so, as long as it's constructive. After all, does anybody benefit from flames?

Please review! Thank you in advance, Freckled Raven


	3. Poor Choicemakers, You and I

A/N: It's been a while. I've had to revamp the direction of this story a bit seeing as Snape is actually evil. Who would have guessed, eh? Anyway, here's a little bit for **Cat** who was so kind as to review the last chapter. Thank you so much. Let's hope it gets my creative juices flowing again.

**Poor Choicemakers, You and I**

"What do you want out of life, Sev?"

The two seventh-year students were sitting at the very edge of the school grounds, in the shade of the trees of the Forbidden Forest. They hadn't planned it as a picnic, Severus hated that sort of smarmy concept, but Phoenyx had brought some cheese and apples stolen from the kitchens anyway. It was a habit of hers. No doubt she would lose interest in the food soon and would attempt to transfigure it into water voles or something else suitably bizarre.

It was an overcast day, but humid. The two friends were both perspiring copiously. Nyx had fashioned a couple of makeshift fans out of sticks, leaves and a bit of magic, but they weren't incredibly helpful. Severus had been watching her carefully out of the corner of his eye. He had noticed that recently she had seemed several shades more twitchy than usual, and much more intense, even for her. It would have been a stretch to say that he was worried about his harpy friend. Rather, he was mostly wary of her.

"Well?"

Returning his attention to the conversation at hand, Severus pondered the question.

After some consideration he replied, "I want respect."

Phoenyx cocked her head to the side, a secret smile playing on her lips.

"Nothing else?" she asked.

Severus shrugged. "Whatever else respect comes with, that's what I'll take." He paused, unsure if he wanted to ask the next expected question.

"And you?"

Her reply surprised him, to say the least. She didn't even take a moment to consider.

"I want to go home, someday."

Severus furrowed his brow. "But you're going home next year, are you not?"

Nyx rubbed her left arm absentmindedly and shrugged.

"Theoretically yes, but it won't happen. I can feel it."

There was more hiding in her tone, but she didn't continue and Severus didn't ask. Her unspoken words hung in the air between them like a vapor. Thoughts turned to steam to be blown away by the breeze.

Phoenyx twitched a wing. It was her undamaged one, the other still practically mummified in all its bandages. Last spring, she'd shattered almost every bone in her left wing when she'd fallen from the North Turret. The bones still hadn't healed properly. She'd never told Severus how the accident had happened. Dumbledore had spoken to her shortly after she'd regained consciousness after the accident. As far as anyone was concerned, only the Headmaster knew what the circumstances had been. And no doubt Nyx had lied to him too.

She was sure that she would never fly again.

It was something they had in common.

Severus turned his gaze away from his friend. He could feel a wall building up between the two of them. It had been steadily growing thicker since the beginning of their final school year. Perhaps it was inevitable. They'd never really been all that close, preferring to communicate vaguely through actions rather than words. Neither one was really sure what it meant to be a friend to someone. They went through the proper motions, all the while drifting further and further apart.

It was Nyx who broke the awkward silence. She always did, in those days.

"So tell me! What did Tom say about your potions?"

Severus shrugged, feigning nonchalance.

"He said that they showed promise."

Phoenyx clapped her hands happily. "That's wonderful, Sev! That's high praise right there!"

Severus shrugged again, hiding his pride. Phoenyx was always singing Tom's praises, but she did have a point. He _was_ Head Boy after all.

"Is he interested then?"

Severus didn't answer. He just turned to Nyx and nodded slowly. His friend let out a joyful cry and hugged him tightly around the neck.

"You'll see," she said. "This is just the first step. Things can only get better for you now."

She pulled back and winked. "It's all about building alliances."

She'd been right.

&&&

But not in the way she'd hoped.

These were Severus' thoughts as he watched his old companion ready herself for flight. Oh, she had regained the use of both her wings. It had been her reward for her first successful assignment as a Death Eater. In return for her mended wing, a young but meddlesome auror and his new family had died asleep in their beds.

Both she and Severus had worked on that job together. Severus employing his considerable talents as a spy to scope out the territory, and Nyx doing the dirty work.

Snape wondered to himself if he felt sorry for his part in that event. Not really. He'd done far worse since then, and it hadn't been the turning point for him. It was just when he realized that he had turned already.

Stretching out her wings beside her, Phoenyx shot Severus a somewhat familiar whimsical look.

"Do you ever think about how things might have been different, Sev?"

"It's too late, Phoenyx," he replied shortly. "The Dark Lord is dead."

She narrowed her eyes shrewdly. "But we're not. Is that what's bothering you?"

"You're not welcome here, Phoenyx. Go."

"Of course."

The harpy looked up to the sky and gave a great heave with her wings. She had checked and had found no traces of magical activity in the area. The searchers had moved on for now. Before she took flight, Phoenyx hovered in the air above Severus.

"You can't run, you know."

Severus' face remained impassive and unreadable.

"Bloody hell, neither can I really," she continued. "But that doesn't mean I won't try."

And she was gone, flying low and fast over the English countryside.

&&&

By morning, she was in the custody of the Ministry of Magic's aurors, having been stunned by vigilantes somewhere over Edinburgh. Reports of her capture were splayed all across the Daily Prophet:

ASSASSIN DOWN: MINISTRY CATCHES DANGEROUS YOU-KNOW-WHO OPERATIVE!

Further down on the page, underneath the exclusive photographs of the irritated-looking pixie, the article mentioned that her trial was going to be held the coming Tuesday. But Severus already knew that. He'd already received his summons by owl.

He was to act as witness against her.

A/N: You know the drill. Push the purple button, tell me what you think, I update sometime this century. Have a good night (or day).


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